


Le Rouge et le Blanc et le Noir

by Quillori



Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Grandaunt Tiger (Fairy Tale), Rotkäppchen | Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale), Schneeweißchen und Rosenrot | Snow White and Rose Red (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Luideag, Treat, redcaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:29:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/pseuds/Quillori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there were two brothers, who walked in a wood, and found two sisters waiting for them there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Rouge et le Blanc et le Noir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherith/gifts).



> I fear this provides conclusive proof my copy of Aarne-Thompson should be pried out of my hands. But I promise this really is a version of Red Riding Hood, sort of, in a manner of speaking, after its fashion...

Once upon a time there were two brothers, princes, and their names were Bernat and Tuomas. Bernat was the older and the wiser, but Tuomas was more handsome and best loved by his parents. One day Tuomas wanted to eat the black trout that lived only in a lake in the dark woods, so he and Bernat went there together to fish, and as they were sitting by the lake, they saw across the water a woman with her coat about her head.

“We should follow her,” Tuomas said, “for it will be a grand adventure, like in my story books, and perhaps we will find she is very beautiful.” So the two of them set off together to follow the woman, but by the time they had got around the lake, she was almost out of sight. Luckily the coat she had huddled about herself was red, and so they could catch glimpses of it ahead of them, and every time they thought of giving up they would see it far off through the trees and agree to keep going.

Eventually they came to a small house in the great woods, its windows glowing with cheerful warmth, most inviting to the two princes, who were by now very cold and rather hungry. The door of the house, however, was solidly built of old wood, darkened by time and as tough as iron, so that they had no choice but to knock politely and ask for admittance.

“Who is there?” called a voice from within, and the two princes called back that they were weary travellers, hungry and tired, who desired to come in and warm themselves by the fire.

“You cannot come in,” replied the voice, “for my mother has gone to visit my grandmother, and she made me promise that I and my sister would let no one in until she returned.”

“Surely you can let us in,” Tuomas replied, “for we are young men of noble birth who will do you no harm.”

“So you say,” came the reply, “so you say. But your voice is too deep and too hoarse for my liking, and I will not disobey my mother.”

At this Tuomas was very upset, and did not know what to do, but his brother told him to walk back to the clear stream of cold water they had passed on their way, running pure and almost frozen from the mountains, and to drink deeply of it, rinsing his throat. This Tuomas did, and when he again asked admittance on his return, his voice was like the church bells when they toll on Sunday morning. But still he could not gain entry.

“I see you from our little window,” said the voice, “and your face looks too coarse. Surely you are some robber, and not a harmless man of noble birth.”

Tuomas grew angry at this, for no one had ever insulted his looks before, and he kicked the door, but all he did was hurt his foot. His brother comforted him and advised him to look in the woods around the house and find some potato leaves to put on his face; this he did and when he removed them he was miraculously even more handsome than before. This time when he knocked and asked entrance, the door opened and the two princes could pass inside.

There were two sisters living together in the little house. The one who had spoken, whom they had seen by the trout lake, was called Rosette, and her younger sister was Blanche. Rosette had hair as dark as a raven’s wing, or the night when neither moon nor stars arise, and red, red lips, like blood upon the snow. She was dressed all in shades of crimson and scarlet and ruby, her nails stained vermilion and a blood-red cap upon her head. Her sister Blanche was pale as the mist, or ice upon the pond: ivory-white, bone-white, as white as the finest porcelain, and she was likewise dressed all in milk-white shades, except only her night cap, which matched her sister’s. Both were alike in beauty and in charm, and the two brothers gazed at them, entranced.

Finally Bernat, remembering his manners, thanked the sisters kindly for inviting them in to share the warmth of the fire, and asked if he and his brother might share their evening meal. To this the sisters agreed, and the four of them sat down to eat together, and very merry they were, for Rosette and Blanche were delightful company, and the little house very warm and comfortable, and the brothers hungry; the only thing that spoiled the perfection of the evening was that all the food was quite innocent of salt, but this was a minor thing that troubled Tuomas not at all, although his brother frowned a little and looked more sharply at the two sisters.

After dinner, Rosette said that they might spend the night by the fire, and share breakfast with them in the morning, before they went on their way, but Tuomas, greatly daring, said that it would be more pleasant to sleep on a bed.

“Surely it would,” said Rosette, “but there is only the one bed to be had: we share it all three together, my mother and my sister and I, so there is no other bed for you to have.”

“That is true,” said Blanche, “but sister, think: our mother is away and sleeps tonight with our grandmother, so there is surely space for one of them with us. Let us not make both of them sleep by the fire.”

At this Rosette smiled indulgently, and stroked her sister’s white hair. “Dear sister, you know I can deny you nothing. Let us agree, then, which of the two should sleep with us and which at the hearth. I like the both of them equally - do you have any preference?”

Blanche looked frankly at the two brothers, considering their merits, but then she blushed, a faint colour staining her cheeks, and looked shyly away. “I could not choose between them, sister: let us give them some task to do, and the one who does it better may sleep with us tonight. Who knows, perhaps they will stay with us another day, and the other may have his turn tomorrow.”

“What task would you have us do?” asked Tuomas eagerly, “We are ready to do whatever you desire.”

The sisters consulted together, whispering behind their hands and darting quick glances at the two brothers. Finally, with much soft laughter, they reached agreement, and said that they would warm water by the fire for the two brothers to wash, and the one who washed himself the cleanest would be the one fit to sleep with them, and the other must sleep amongst the ash.

The water being warmed, the two brothers stripped off their clothes and began to wash themselves carefully, from their toes to their dark hair. At first Rosette and Blanche turned modestly away, but first one and then the other glanced covertly back at the princes, and then again, less covertly, until finally Blanche could not resist telling Tuomas he was not scrubbing vigorously enough, and Rosette told Bernat he should wash his hair more carefully, and in no time at all they found themselves coaxed into helping the two men, pouring water over them and finally wrapping them in soft towels.

“Well,” said Rosette, “I am sure I don’t know which is the cleaner; you choose as you think best, sister.”

Blanche’s choice fell on Tuomas, perhaps because she truly thought he had won, or perhaps because he still had the tender, cossetted charm of youth about him; perhaps also Bernat had not tried as hard as he might to win her attention. So Bernat settled down for the night by the fire, and his brother joined the two sisters in their bed, lying between them. 

It was a fine bed, equal to any his parents owned, carved of solid dark wood and painted in red with charming country designs: fruit and fish and deer, and all things good to eat. On one side lay Rosette, her dark head resting trustingly on his shoulder; on the other, Blanche, with her white hand over his heart.

“What fine, strong arms you have,” murmured Rosette into his shoulder.

“All the better to hold you with,” Tuomas replied, pulling her closer to him.

“What a fine, strong heart you have,” murmured Blanche against his other shoulder, pressing her hand against his chest.

“It is beating with love of you,” Tuomas replied, embracing her also.

“It isn’t fair my sister should have too much of you,” said Rosette, pouting. “I like your hands, with their elegant, clever fingers - say that they can be mine.” Tuomas laughed and said they could, and she caught one of his hand in hers, lifting it to her sweet red mouth.

“Well then his throat shall be mine,” said her sister, and nipped at it with her little white teeth.

Meanwhile Bernat lay by the fire, which had sunk down to only a dim red glow deep within the blackened logs. He had been asleep only a little while when he was awakened by a sound from the bed, as though someone were eating something. He had not liked the saltless meat over much, and finding himself still hungry he called out to them to give him a share, but Rosette called back that what they were eating was only for those who shared the bed, and if he wanted to partake, he would have to wait.

A little more time passed, and the red glow of the logs sunk quite away, so that there was no light at all, but there was still the sound of eating from the bed, and he called out again, asking if they could spare some for him, but Blanche called back that a well-brought up young man would wait his turn.

Bernat lay a little longer by the remains of the fire, turning this way and that, without sleeping. Finally he called out to his brother, reminding him that they had always shared their meals, but his brother did not reply. 

Reaching into the fireplace, his worst suspicions realised, Bernat took one of the logs, although it was still so hot it burned his hand, and stumbling to his feet made for the door, scrabbling desperately to open the lock; it seemed to him that hands, or possibly claws, clutched at him in the darkness, slippery with blood, but he beat at them with the log, until the night was broken with inhuman screams of pain and anger. Managing at last to spring the doorcatch, he ran into the dark night, stumbling and banging into trees until at last he reached home. The next day, a search party was sent out, heavily armed and accompanied by a priest, but no trace of the little house or of the two sisters could be found, nor of Tuomas either, though they searched everywhere. But Bernat’s hand remained withered and black where he had seized the log, and he was known afterwards as Bernat Black-Hand. In time, his father having died, he became king, and ruled well and wisely, although he had the peculiar habit that he would not sleep in the dark, but insisted that his bedchamber be well lit at all times, with a large fire built high even in the middle of summer.


End file.
